


Looking Pretty In A Hotel Bar

by Mindlessmuse



Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse, Cocaine Use, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Drug Abuse, Drug Use, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Heroin Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Marijuana Use, Multi, Multiship, NSFW, Not Suitable for Work, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sally Face AU, Self-Harm, Sexual Content, Sexual Harassment, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Unsafe Sex, alcohol use, graphic depictions, mention of needles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-29 15:19:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19022581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mindlessmuse/pseuds/Mindlessmuse
Summary: A Sally Face AU fan fiction. One where they aren’t sTePbRoS.





	1. Prologue

[author's note; the prologue contains a lot of dialogue from the game, and is only used to set the mood with the characters relationships, in case there are readers who are not experienced with the game. The following chapters will be.... a lot better. Xoxo]

 

 

" **You think moving is gonna solve all your problems,** ** _Sally Face_**?" The insult always came so pointedly. Sal figured, after all these years, they would have had something new to call him. The nickname wasn't even fucking creative. If someone was going to insult someone else, the least they could have done was put effort into it, right? But, no. They went obvious, poking fun at the prosthetic that covered an otherwise mangled face. It was no secret or surprise that his face was jacked up. Obviously, he knew. He lived with it everyday. He adjusted a fake blue eye filling the right socket, got fitted for dentures earlier than he would have liked. But they really tried it, really thought it was going to bother him. Claiming it made it easier.

But they were moving. They were leaving his home-that-never-felt-quite-like-home of New Jersey. He and his dad. Nothing but a uHaul and what was left in their house. That was fine. It was depressing, honestly, the way Henry refused to get rid of Diane's shit. Her clothes still hung in the closet. The master bedroom still carried the faintest smell of her. It had been so long that Sal had almost forgotten the incident that claimed his face claimed her life. _All because he wanted to pet that fucking dog._ He figured Henry had to have blamed him, right? Why wouldn't he, in truth? Sal wanted to pet a random ass dog in the park. And they both paid the price; hers being the ultimate.

But it was cool, it was fine. A change of scenery. ' _Maybe dad'll finally get out of his funk._ ' That way of thinking was the only thing keeping him sane on what felt like the longest drive in human fucking history. He figured it would be worth it. It would have to be worth it. He didn't really want to think about the potential outcome. Worst case scenario, he decided, he'd exist the same as he had in Jersey. He'd keep to himself and keep his head down. Graduate. And then disappear off to some European country, or some shit like that. It was weird, trying to plan a future at 15 with absolutely zilch for prospects, but he'd make do with what he had for now.

" **This'll be good for us, Sal.** " Henry spoke was a sureness that only dads had, that sort of almost comfort, even if he didn't fully believe himself. Whatever it took to keep his son calmed down, because he knew how rough moving could be. And he knew how rough the cards dealt to Sal had already made every other aspect of his young life. But this was new. Exciting. A fresh start for the both of them.

Sal didn't say anything in response. He just nodded, and made some kind of noise muffled by medical equipment covering his face. He really wanted to be optimistic, and less... brooding teenager. He was practically drowning in his own angst in the passenger seat.

The rest of the drive was made almost entirely in silence. They stopped for fast food, which was snuck under the mask. Henry had obviously seen Sal's face, but he didn't want to risk a motorist of some kind seeing something that... traumatizing. The wrappers were dropped on the floorboards for now, and a red denim covered leg was tugged up against his chest, shoe pressed hard against the seat.

Boxes were shuffled into the apartment. God forbid they would have gotten the ground floor. Figures... Sal moved his boxes and bins and bags into his bedroom, before deciding he just wasn't quite ready to unpack yet. His dad stood in the living room, stoic but exhausted in appearance. Sometimes it was easy to forget the struggles his father was going through, as well. The older of the blue haired men tried to smile, but it faltered almost immediately.

" **This'll be our new beginning. We can finally leave what happened in New Jersey behind us now.** " A statement probably easier for Henry than Sal. Sal walked around every day with a physical reminder of what happened. The knotted scars didn't just disappear because they headed further east. " **Why don't you go explore the building and make some friends while I finish unpacking.** " Yeah. Sure. He'd go make some friends. Not yet, though. He had a bit more to say.

" **What do you think about this place?** " Sal inquired, having yet to have any real opinion, himself.

" **It may not be as nice as our old house, but we'll make the best of it.** " They always seemed to _make the best of things._ Sal was ready for things to just be the best, instead of spit-shining a pile of shit, hoping it'd look less... like a pile of shit. " **As long as we have each other, I think we can make a real home here.** " Yeah. That much was probably true.

**"I miss Jersey**." Sal spoke without thinking. He could tell by the furrow of his dad's brow that it wasn't the right thing to say. But he couldn't pull the words out of thin air, could he? A sigh from deep within his dad's chest.

" **I know ya do, bud. But please try to give it a chance. School will start up in a couple of weeks and then you'll be able to make all new friends.** " Henry had the nerve to imply Sal had old friends to replace. But sure. This wasn't the time to dump all over his dad's fantasy world.

" **Yeah, I guess so."** It was hard to hide the cynicism in his voice, but for his dad? Sal would do the absolute best he could.

" **I know so!** " A round of enthusiasm Sal wasn't really ready for. It was that... dad sureness. It was almost fucking comforting. " **Anyone would be lucky to have you as a friend, Sal.** " He knew it was heartfelt, but it was hard to feel any kind of way about it. Of course Henry thought so. He was his dad. He had to think so. The two exchanged goodbyes very briefly, and almost distantly. But that was their normal.

Sal left the unit, wondering what the fuck that was supposed to mean. Was he meant to knock on every door and hope someone on the other side didn't think he was a kid getting a jumpstart on Halloween? His small stature often had people convinced he was younger than fifteen, closer to eight or nine. Bless the genetics, he supposed. So he ventured. Fucked around in the elevator for a while, hoping to find something, or someone, worth acknowledging. The building kind of sucked ass. But he wouldn't tell his dad that. Didn't want to hurt his feelings.

He went down to the third floor, noticing a wet floor sign just a little too late. He slipped, feet out from under him, ass slamming down onto the ground. He made a noise of discomfort, not quite pain. He hadn't even really had a chance to notice the woman mopping before he busted his shit, but she made her presence known, resting the handle of her mop against the wall swiftly to help him back to his feet.

" **Oh my!** " A response Sal was used to. The mask tended to fuck people up a little when they first saw it. But it wasn't fear, or disgust, or confusion on her face. It was tenderness and concern. " **Are you alright?** " A little chuckle as she helped him all the way up, guided steps away from the freshly mopped linoleum so he could gather himself again. He nodded, but didn't speak right away. " **You must be one of those new guys from 402, huh?** " Good. She was doing well at carrying the whole conversation.

" **Yeah, it's just me and my dad. My name's Sal.** "

" **Pleasure to meet ya, Sal! I'm Lisa. I take care of this place, keep things up and runnin'.** " She was one of those friendly people. The ones who made you question what was in the fucking water. " **So, if ya ever need help with anything, don't hesitate to ask, okay?** " Would it have been pathetic to ask where to make some friends? Probably. He nodded, before venturing off to look around some more. It was such a small encounter, but he'd probably hold onto her kindness for when he had a bad day, remind him that people weren't all bad.

More wandering didn't seem to lead anywhere at all. He had tried to access the basement, but couldn't because it needed some sort of keycard to access it. But he still made more rounds. He stopped back at his apartment for a minute to hang out with his cat, Gizmo, for only a little while. He eventually found himself back on floor 3, deciding that maybe that pathetic question wasn't the end of the world.

" **Hey Lisa!** " Sal did his best to seem as friendly and whatever else was needed for this interaction. Lisa was friendly enough, and she deserved that same kindness back. Maybe he'd take the chance to get to know her. " **So, how long have you worked here?** "

Lisa leaned on the handle of her mop, and managed to look kind of bad-ass doing so. " **Actually, I don't just work here. I live here, too. I'm on call 24/7, for any urgent maintenance needs. Despite what you may hear from others, this is a lovely building. I'm happy to call it home. Goin' on 10 years now.** " Honestly, Sal couldn't picture living there for that fucking long. Sal considered presssing on what people said about the building, but he figured he'd have time for that. It was probably haunted or some shit.

" **I was wondering if you knew anything to do around here?** " Given that he hadn't been there for too long, he figured he'd just blurt it out and ask. The whole _new guy_ shit.

" **You know what? I actually have a son around your age. I think you two would get along great!** " Sal was pretty sure he would never, even in his angsty bullshit, get tired of her pep and optimism. " **He's downstairs in our apartment. You should go introduce yourself.** "

Sal was hesitant. He didn't want to disturb her kid, whoever the fuck he was. And what if he was weird? And not the fun weird, like he smelled his hands every 4 seconds or some shit? " **Uh... sure. Yeah. I'll go say hi.** " He asked for something to do, right?

" **Great! His name is Larry. He'll be in the basement. Tell him I sent you down.** " Lisa smiled wide at him, and he got an overwhelming warm feeling in his chest. " **You'll need a key card to access it from the elevator, though. Here. Take this one. I've got plenty of extras.** " The trust this woman had in a total stranger was... something else. But he smiled and graciously accepted the card. He thanked her kindly and went on his way.

When he got to the basement, he wondered if he was supposed to knock or walk in. He could hear loud, angry music.maybe it was better to go upstairs... ' _No, Sal. Don't be a chicken shit. Just go in there._ ' He knocked twice. No answer. Lisa had sent him down, right? So it wasn't a big deal. He turned the knob, let himself in. He announced his entry with a loud " **Hello?** " That seemed to go otherwise unnoticed. Okay. Follow the music. The door clearly said STAY OUT, but fuck it, right? He knocked pretty hard to be heard over the music.

" **Yeah?** " The voice sounded way fucking older than him. Oh, God. Was he going to get murdered by some weirdo who lived with his mom still? Nerves. Immediately nervous.

" **Hey, uh, Larry? Your mom said I should come say hi. I just moved into 402.** " Sal immediately felt like he was being invasive on personal space, and considered running for the door.

" **Oh, hey. Come on it. Door's open.** " Not exactly the response Sal had been anticipating, but... alright. He wasn't going to say no. He pushed the door open, immediately hit by a waft of marijuana-scented air. His room smelled like... boy. Not the worst, but sort of musky, a little sweaty. Okay, then. Metal band posters covered the walls. Maybe he should look at the person, huh?

The second his eyes hit Larry Johnson, he wanted to leave. His hair was messy, and kind of dirty. His clothes looked slept in. Dark bags circled bloodshot eyes like he hadn't slept in a month. Sal was being judgmental, which was ironic, given his appearance. Between the mask and blue pigtails, he didn't have a right to judge anyone. Whoops.

" **Whoa! Nice mask!** " Larry sounded stoned, which... made sense. Sal sort of tensed. He wasn't sure if he expected the guy to just _not notice_ or something, but it was a little uncomfortable. He rubbed at the back of his neck before his eyes dropped down to the floor.

" **It's a prosthetic.** " He blurted, cheeks burning underneath the polyethylene plastic. If it phased Larry, he didn't make it obvious in the slightest.

" **Oh, shit. Sorry, man.** " Larry sort of chuckled, like it was just a normal social faux-pas. Relief flooded Sal's senses for a second, and he felt his heart rate slow down.

" **It's cool. I'm used to much worse by now. I'm glad you like it.** " He didn't want to sound desperate for friendship, but he sort of was. He was seriously missing out on the social aspects of life.

" **So, uh... do you, like, have no face under there? What happened?** " Great. He was one of those guys. One of those people who didn't seem to know what the actual fuck boundaries were. Sal felt that burn in his face again.

" **I'd rather not talk about that.** " He retorted, sounding a little more snarky than he really meant to. But he was defensive. It was private and shit. The rest of their interaction wasn't the most substantial. Small talk. Discussing where Sal came from, and the whole reclaiming of his _sweet_ nickname from the people he associated with back on Jersey. How he figured, if he ran with it, it couldn't really be something to hurt his feelings. And then they had their first bonding moment, where Larry shared his favorite, err, music with Sal.

It was louder than Sal usually listened to, and a lot... heavier. It was faster and harder and before he knew it, both boys were standing there, head banging to Sanity's Fall, a band he would have never listened to without the introduction by Larry. Nockfell was already looking up, and he felt that pessimistic shroud fading away.  


——————————————

Seasons changed, but the company Sal kept didn't. He continued to spend every single day with Larry Johnson. They explored Larry's treehouse, and he revealed his missing father's possessions, hidden away from Lisa, who insisted they didn't belong there. School started, and it seemed his chances to make friends got even better.

Todd Morrison was... something else. Probably the most helpful person on the planet. Always eager to please, he frequently volunteered his services to anyone, really, who asked. It was through him that Sal met Ashley Campbell. She was getting tutored by him in math at his apartment one day when Sal dropped by to visit. He didn't expect the friendships to blossom, really. That whole low self worth shit whispering awful things to him.

When he had first seen Ashley, he swore he heard a choir of fucking angels. She was literally the prettiest human being  Sal had ever laid eye on. The group got close so fast it almost gave him whiplash. He was thankful to establish a group within the school. No lunches alone, no just trying to survive week after week after week.

Even more friends would follow. Chug and Maple had become a pretty integral part of his life, and he would thank them forever for that. Tight knit as they could have been.

And they made surviving Travis fucking Phelps easier. A blonde fucknugget so far in the closet he could have kissed Mr. Tumnus. Apparently he was the son of some religious zealot, a fire and brimstone type of pastor. It didn't excuse what he did, though. Somehow, as far as Sal was concerned, it made it fucking worse. There were few interactions that weren't fucking awful, but... whatever.

Math class sucked. It was boring, and after finishing his work, decided he'd be cool to take a quick snooze. Because, you know, fuck it, right? It was cut short by the teacher, and Travis took notice. Grumbled some angry shit for whatever reason he would have seen fit.

" **Hey, freak!** " To be so young but so bitter... it almost broke Sal's heart. But his sympathies would soon wear thing. He turned away from Ashley to look the other way down the hall, face Travis.

" **Oh, hey, Travis.** " Sal did his best to be friendly to just about anyone. He was off putting enough without being a dick to people, so he did what he could.

" **Nobody likes a goody-two-shoes, Sally Face.** " Ah, word traveled so quickly. He couldn't help but notice the black eye, and the clenched fists at Travis's side. A roll of his eyes behind the prosthetic.

" **Nobody likes a cliche bully, Travis.** " He could spit venom in his tone, too. His wasn't fucking scared of him. Even if he wanted people to be. Sal wasn't dumb. He recognized acting out because of trauma, probably better than anyone else in the school.

" **Seriously. Don't you have something better to do?** " Ashley sounded like a pissed off mama bear protecting one of her cubs. Sal was thankful to be the cub in that situation.

" **Shut up, bitch.** " Travis used a poor choice of words. " **I wasn't talking to you.** " Like that would somehow help his case. It was almost comical, to see the stand-off between the two.

" **You know, if you took that stick out of your ass, you may actually enjoy yourself for once. Maybe even make a friend or two.** " Sal wasn't sure why he was given the blonde bastard any advice. Maybe he had higher hopes for him or something.

" **Fuck off, faggot. I have more friends than you'll ever have.** " Ah, calling him a slur. Obviously, that was going to cut so deep. The most immense emotional pain. He really was just a cliche bully. It didn't hurt his feelings, but it made him mad. So Sal decided to try to pipe up with his own insult.

" **You kiss your daddy with that tongue?** " An arrogant smirk that would be a total secret between Sal and God. He chuckled, even punctuated it with a snort through a partial nose. " **I'm sure he-...** " The sentence was cut off by Travis's fist connecting with his mask. Sal stood there sort of stunned as Travis ran off.

" **What the hell, asshole?!** " Ashley yelled after him, before turning her attention to Sal. " **Are you alright, Sal?** " The concern on her face reminded him of Lisa. She was just... so maternal. It made his heart swell in any other situation. But not this one.

" **I'm fine.** " He didn't mean to be snappy with Ash. She hadn't done anything wrong. She was trying to help.

" **Come on, let's report that jerk.** " Right. Because in all of his years, Sal had learned someone could most definitely trust school administration to deal with dicks. He sighed from a place deep in his chest.

" **No. Don't worry about it. That'll just make it worse.** " Sal had to drop eyes to the floor, to make sure he didn't see the look on Ashley's face. It would have hurt his feelings, he was pretty sure. " **Trust me. Ive dealt with bigger bullies than Travis before.** " That much was true. He didn't see the sudden frantic look on her face.

" **Sal, you're bleeding!** " Ash chirped, seeing a slow trickle of blood from behind the mask. " **Here, let's use my bandana...** " She offered, moving closer to unbuckle the back of his mask before he could insist she didn't with a complete sentence. It wasn't a good look under there.

" **Wait, hold on- I- you can't- I'm-...** " But it came too little too late. She lifted the mask away from him, saw the gruesome horrors he hid away from everyone else. The look in his eyes was an almost childish fear. He took note of the way her lip snagged between her teeth. Fuck. Fuck. Panic.

Panic that dissolved as the expression on her face settled into a smile. She carefully dabbed at the fresh wound, almost hidden by the mess of scar tissue replacing skin. " **There. It was just a small scratch. Don't worry, you can hardly see it.** " That was... oddly comforting. The rest of the day was... fucked up. Larry joined the pair, demanding to know what happened. Threatened Travis's life and all of that.

 


	2. Chapter One

It wasn't meant to turn into this. Sal had no intentions on any of this turning out the way he did. Larry was supposed to be his best friend. He was supposed to flirt with Ashley until, hopefully, they'd have a regrettable night together. But a not-so-surprise coming out from Ashley squashed that. Not that it mattered. _That night_ had already happened well before then anyways.

Sal would remember it for the rest of his life. It was cold outside. The snow left little pink blotches on the exposed skin of Larry's face. They were walking to a party at Ash's in Sal's honor. Usually, that just meant a little cake, in the company of Chug, Maple and Ash. Some music. Larry would get stoned and make them listen to Sanity's Fall, as he always did. And then they'd go home. But something about that night was different.

They went. They hung out. Sal considered drinking, but turned it down, thanks to the addiction that ran rampant through his family. But he considered it. They left earlier than they had the year before. The walk back to Addison was quiet, with the rest of the group electing to pass out in various places at Ash's.

" **Remember that time, when your mask came off?** " Larry hummed, hands deep in the pockets of dirty jeans. They had talked about that day about a thousand different times, and Sal couldn't help but wonder what was different this time, why his tone was softer.

" **Of course.** " The last time they'd talked about it, Larry had fondly recalled Sal being so worried about Larry's bloodied nose that he didn't even notice his face had become exposed. It was one of those movie moments that was almost the perfect _first kiss_ scene. But it wasn't. It turned into hurriedly buckling his mask back on. " **Why didn't you look away?** " A question Sal had never really asked before.

It was obvious that it caught the taller man off guard. " **Why was I supposed to?** " A cocked eyebrow, and a side-eye glance. Sal turned his head as he walked, attention even more on Larry. His hair blew in the wind, hair no longer contained by his trademarked pigtails. That had to come to an end when he turned 18, Sal decided.

" **Because it's gross.** " Sal blurted honestly. Larry stopped walking and looked at him. Sal just kept walking, for a few steps before he looked at Larry. " **Come on. The apartment is right there.** " He motioned at the building, only a few more steps away. But Larry was unmoving. Sal closed the distance between them, glaring. " **What?** " A little snappy.

" **You think it's gross?** " Larry was offended on Sal's behalf, which was fucking ironic, considering Sal was the one who implied he was gross in the first place.

" **Well... yeah...?** " Why were they even talking about this? It was cold out, and a complete statement of fact. " **I'm going inside.** " Sal walked away again, toward the building. Larry followed pretty close behind, spouting off something that Sal probably should have paid attention to.

They did the usual; went straight for Lisa and Larry's apartment. Lisa went off for the night with some guy, her rebound after a failed attempted relationship with Sal's dad. Thank God it failed, honestly. It would have been weird to have a big, gay crush on his step-brother.

A beeline for Larry's room. To sit, talk, listen to music, and sit silently while Larry smoked up. It wasn't his jam, so Sal had gotten used to their routine. But the routine got weird. _Larry_ got weird. Sal turned to say something and when he did, Larry's hand clumsily grabbed one of the clips on the back of the mask, with a decent chunk of Sal's hair.

" **Dude, what are you doi—."** Words were immediately cut off at the sound of the clips. Sal froze, eyes trained on Larry. The grip on blue locks came loose, the prosthetic moved away from his face. Larry had seen it a couple times before, but never for long. And rarely was it this close. Sal let out a slow breath through his nose, one he didn't realize he had been holding. Larry set the mask down on his dresser and just... looked at him.

There wasn't a waver in his face, a twitch of his eyebrows, nothing. Larry just... looked at him. Saw him. Genuinely, fully saw him. Sal wanted to say something, ask why he was just staring at him but he couldn't. He just stared back. Finally, a slight furrow of Larry's brows as he got a little closer.

" **See? Not even a little gross.** " Larry's tone was frustratingly soft. The moment was soft. Sal was confused, and conflicted. And starting to get that nervous acidity in his stomach. He just watched, wondering what Larry was going to do, what he was going to say next. Sal immediately flinched back when Larry reached for him. Scarred skin was sensitive, and had gone almost entirely untouched for a long while. But Larry was insistent. An intense gaze, before fingertips brushed against Sal's cheek. " **You're perfect.** "

Sal stared at him. Waited for a laugh. A proclamation of _sike!_ or something of that nature. But he didn't. He just kept looking at him, thumb soft as it stroked against his cheek. He would have been okay if that had been it. But a barely-there kiss against lips misshapen by plastic surgeries sent a rush of blood to Sal's face.

When Larry pulled back, Sal's eyes were still wide open. Maybe even a little wider than they had been a few moments before. Larry opened his mouth to speak, and the shorter of the two closed the distance between them, crashed his lips in an uncoordinated kiss against Larry's. Breath came out hard through their noses, and both had to focus on not being a chickenshit, not backing out of it.

It didn't go as far as it could have. And Sal wasn't sure if he was glad, or upset. But quick flashes of bagged eyes locked on his, long hair bobbing in his lap would be more than enough to sate him when he found himself alone. They made an unspoken agreement. It never needed to be talked about again. It would never happen again. Larry wasn't gay, he insisted. And Sal didn't feel like the one to argue it with him.

But it did happen again. And further. It turned into whispers of _I love you,_ and stolen smiles and glances. It turned into questions. It turned into jokes about how _gay_ their entire circle of friends were. It turned into something more than they would have guessed possible.

And it carried on. For months. They even came out to their parents. Confessed to what they thought was some huge secret. Henry didn't seem to give a shit. Lisa claimed she saw it coming the first time she saw the two of them together. Regardless of how anti climatic it had been, it was a huge relief to have that love and acceptance. And they had each other.

And then the week of graduation approached. The nights of quiet cuddles and whispered secrets were going to come to an end. And nobody would have ever seen it coming. There was no leading up to it. There wasn't even a slight indication that it was coming. One day, everything was perfect. And the next, it just... wasn't. Everything changed, even though it didn't hit right away what that would mean.

Six days until graduation.

And the day started like so many before it.

Sal woke up, tangled up in the taller of the two. He buried his face in a chest that probably didn't smell great to anyone else, but smelled like personal heaven to the blue haired boy. True, Larry's... _essence_ was that of a heavy marijuana smell, and the faintest hint of body odor masked under a light mist of whatever body spray he had gotten for Christmas that year. It wasn't the most pleasant, but to Sal? There was nothing better.

Mangled lips brushed against Larry's chest as he spoke. " **Morning,** ** _Larry Face_** **.** " A teasing hum, eyes not even bothering to open yet. A chuckle under him let Sal know Larry was, in fact, awake as well. He lifted his head to get a look at that smiling face. It happened to be his favorite thing to look at.

" **Good morning...** " Larry's voice was incredibly lazy. He stretched his arms far above his head before they came down to wrap around the smaller of the two. It was cheesy, but their bodies fit together just about perfectly. The height difference was cute, according to just about anyone else.

Sal slowly pushed his weight up with his hands on either side of Larry's bare torso, looking Larry in the eyes. Or, rather, one. Sal preferred not to sleep with his fake eye in, so his focus was... one-sided, to say the least. " **Have you thought about... after graduation?** " Because God forbid, Sal Fisher would have given the man the chance to actually wake all the way up before asking existential questions.

" **Uh, I mean...** " The exhaustion was clear in Larry's voice. He cleared his throat, hoping to move the dehydration away enough to be able to speak just a little bit better. It didn't work, but at least he tried. " **Nah**." Larry had been nothing if not a fly by the seat of his pants kind of guy. And that was entirely part of the draw. Spontaneous, and somewhat unpredictable. It kept things exciting, and interesting. It was, ultimately, how they ended up together.

" **We should rent an RV. Road trip with Ash and Todd.** " Sal suggested, sort of offhandedly. He hadn't put a lot of thought into college, or what would happen after high school, but he knew things were likely to change. Ash would go off to college, Todd too. Sal was... undecided, and Larry seemed disinterested in the idea of higher education that didn't involve being... higher, evident by the gap year he had been taking.

" **You think so?** " Larry mused, tugging Sal back down against him, not ready to greet the sun peaking through fabric hung over makeshift windows. Sal nodded against his chest, before peeling himself away. His body felt sort of stiff from sleeping on the floor of the treehouse. He sat up, stretched his back out. He blindly reached for the cup that held saline and his fake eye. He always turned from Larry to put it back in. He blinked a few times until it felt right, and then turned back to him.

" **I think it'd be fun.** " A little shrug, pulling a wrinkled shirt over his frame. A little smile before he crawled a bit away from their makeshift bed, to gather the rest of his clothes. At least it was Saturday. No school. But he had agreed to dress shop with Ash for the grad ceremony, and that had to be coming up soon...whatever time it was. " **I was going to bring it up to Ash today. But I don't think I'd want to go without you.** " A smile as he pulled up boxer briefs. He was standing within reach of Larry, which was a bad idea.

The taller man tugged him down with a wide grin, more than content to just stay lounging around for the rest of the morning, regardless of Sal's prior engagements. He wanted the blue boy all to himself, even if that meant he was a selfish prick. And maybe he was. But almost exclusively when it came to Sal.

" **You have to stop pulling me back down, you know. I have shit to do today.** " Sal grumbled, doing his best to seem like he was grumpy. He wasn't. Not completely. He would have loved to blow off Ash, but he had already done so four consecutive days, so it was sort of a shit or get off the pot scenario. Larry teased him about the insistence that something was more important than he was, because they both knew that wasn't the case. But Sal wanted to maintain his friendship with Ashley, too. " **I'm leaving. You can't stop me this time.** " Sal peeled himself away from Larry for the final time of the morning, with no indication things were set to change.

—————————————————————————————————

Ashley found the perfect dress, because of course she did. She almost even convinced Sal to wear a dress. Almost. He decided for a basic dress shirt, dress pants and a fun patterned tie instead. Her dress was stunning, though. And she looked beautiful in it. But that would never be a surprise to anyone who knew her. She could have walked across the stage in a burlap sack and would have still looked like a fucking dream.

He was excited when he got back, excited to show Larry the clothes he had picked out. Excited to do that little fashion show type thing just to let Larry see how perfectly everything fit him. He checked Lisa's place. Lisa was there but said Larry hadn't come back inside for the day yet. Okay. So he must have been in the treehouse. No big deal. Bag still in hand, he started to walk toward the treehouse. Up the ladder he went. " **Lar, check out what I—-.** " Sal cut himself off when it became clear he was talking to nobody.

The treehouse was empty. He wasn't at home. Couldn't have been with Ash. It wasn't something to panic over just yet. He would show back up eventually, just like he always did. Sal decided to go to his own apartment for a while. He could at least show Henry his fancy man clothes, as long as he wasn't stuck battling some sort of deadline. And that was what he did. After he had shown his dad, it had been about another hour. He took his phone out of his pocket, dialed in Larry's number. The trill on the other side was obnoxious in the moment.

" **Come on....** " Sal grumbled, pacing in his room. " **Pick up the phone, Larry.** " He spoke to nobody at all. It hit voicemail. Instead of leaving one, he angrily snapped his phone shut. Okay, it was fine that he couldn't find him. But what wasn't fine was the way he couldn't even contact him. He tried to call again. Two more times. He snapped the phone closed again and threw it on his bed. Was it because Sal insisted on leaving that morning? He thought the insistence on him stay was just supposed to be cute, and a little funny. But... was Larry angry with him?

Todd. He'd check Todd's place. Anxiety was at the foreground as he got into the elevator to get to Todd's. Hard knocks on the door, but no answer. Fuck. He must have been at Neil's. He went to reach for his phone before he remembered he had angrily threw it on his bed. He needed Ashley. Back up he went. Straight to his room. Door shut a little too hard behind him. This bothered him, and being bothered _bothered_ him. It bothered him that he was starting to feel like the obsessive partner who wasn't alright with Larry doing his own thing.

And that wasn't it. He felt something. Like something was wrong. And he couldn't figure out what it was that was happening, because he couldn't talk to him. The feeling was fucking revolting. But it wouldn't stop. Another call to Larry. It didn't even ring. Just straight to voicemail. He had turned his phone off. That was okay. Maybe he just needed a little bit of time to himself. For whatever reason.

No use panicking about it, right? It wasn't like Sal could do anything at the moment. So he did what he always did when he was upset. He curled up on his bed with Gizmo, and tried to think of things that made him happy that _weren't_ Larry. Like his brain and his heart were **_convinced_** he was gone for good. To prepare him for whatever horrible fucking thing might have happened.

Laying there wasn't helping. He decided he needed to do something else. Needed to channel anxiety into something else, or at least put it into words. So he found a notebook and a pen. His handwriting was nowhere near neat, but it didn't need to be. Nobody would read it except him. He decided that every ten minutes, he would write down another scenario his anxiety convinced him of.

WHAT HAPPENED TO LARRY JOHNSON  
_ A list by Sal Fisher _

_1\. He decided to take some personal time for him. To collect._

That would have been the best option. Sal wanted more than anything for it to be that simple. He could picture it; in a hotel room somewhere with candle and those weird soap petals to live like the king Sal saw him as.

_2\. He was abducted by aliens._

The jury was still out on whether or not Sal believed in little green or grey dudes with advanced technology he could only dream of. For a split second, in his hyper manic state, he wondered if perhaps Todd was an alien.

_3\. He was kidnapped by some crazy hillbilly who has a sister-grandma-wife._

Sal hadn't actually seen any hillbillies in Nockfell, but that didn't mean they didn't exist, right?

_4\. He left._

Sal stared at the paper for what was easily fifty five minutes. He didn't realize the gravity writing out the theory would hold. He felt a sting in his waterline, indicating an emotional response he quickly blinked away. No. He didn't know if that was what happened. He didn't dwell on any of his other ideas as long as he had on this one. But he couldn't seem to let it go. A deep breath, he shoved the notebook under his mattress and just... stared blankly at the wall. There wasn't anything else he could do in the moment.

 


	3. Chapter Two

[the following chapter(s) may contain **graphic** depictions of  
Self harm, drug abuse, emotional abuse, physical abuse, sexual assault, sexual harassment, unsafe BDSM practice (e.g; not respecting safewords), sexual content. This will be the only warning. Author will not be held responsible for emotional anguish caused by triggering content xoxo]

_4\. He left._

Sal re-read the words again and again and again and again. He couldn't help but wonder if maybe he was right. He didn't write again that first night. He left number four alone, and focused on anything else. It was a little sad, how much he clung to Gizmo. The second day came, and there was still no word on or from Larry. Nobody had heard from him in almost 24 hours now, and the concern seemed to be turning into a vicious anger. Anger that he couldn't have at least said _something._ He went back to the notebook, wrote out whatever came to his mind as it happened. He had never been the type to journal or keep a diary but it was time. He needed some way to get his shit out without ending up in ugly tears in front of someone.

His pen hovered over the sheet of paper for about ten minutes in silence before he realized he had nothing to get out. He just stared blankly, hoping the thoughts and feelings would pour out. But they didn't. Maybe he'd have to go back to the list, after all. Maybe get more elaborate or something. He stared at number four. Expand. That was what he was going to do.

_4\. He left Nockfell to pursue a career as an artist. He's going to move to New York City and come back for me when he's settled. But he doesn't want to ruin the surprise._

He was hoping, with everything in his body and mind, that it wasn't just wishful thinking. But it seemed, the more time passed, it was absolutely that. Sal sighed heavily. Time to move on to the next item on the list. Time to focus on another completely insane theory, whatever the fuck that was.

_5\. He smiled at the wrong person and was shot in his stupid fucking abandoning face._

That stupid fucking face that made Sal fall in love in the first place. That stupid fucking face that he had gotten so used to seeing every morning. That stupid fucking face he couldn't get enough of, and would probably give everything in the entire world to get to see just one more time.

_6\. He decided weed wasn't enough and went on a hard drug bender. He'll be back in five or six days, after getting the shit kicked out of him by some sort of drug dealer or some shit._

That theory was the working one for now. Sal didn't think weed was a gateway drug, or anything like that, but he knew somewhere, Larry probably had some sort of connection that could get him heavier shit if he wanted it. The question came, of course. Was that something Larry would have waned? Did he want to disappear and come back from whatever he was doing as an empty husk of some kind? Maybe he wouldn't make it back. People overdosed all the time, right? And who knew what kind of shit Larry was going to go get involved in.

His brooding was interrupted by a familiar shape in his doorway, one who had absolutely no fucking business being anywhere near him. A deep set frown wasn't shielded by his mask. Nothing greeted Travis, other than Sal in his most natural state, a state Travis had never seen him in before. He glared. " **What the fuck do you want?** "

" **Just checking on you.** " The two had been in a weird spot since Sal found that note he wrote, the one professing feelings he wasn't meant to have, according to the vengeful, hateful God he had grown up hearing about. It wasn't something he could help, Travis realized as time went on. He realized it was okay to be gay. And there was only one person he wanted to pursue emotionally. Sure, he had his fair share of gay experiences in the interim, but he never connected with anyone emotionally quite like he did with the blue boy he had taunted so violently. Travis had tried, on more than a dozen occasions, to explain what he thought he was accomplishing, but Sal left exactly no room for forgiveness.

" ** _I don't need someone checking up on me._** " Sal spit venomously. " **I'm** ** _fucking fine_**." He was so short with everyone, but especially the one he still viewed as an antagonist. Travis had been a practical enemy for so fucking long, and he didn't think there was any room for improvement. "Get out of my room." But Travis didn't move. He didn't get out like he had told him to. Travis just stayed put. He looked at Sal with almost pity. He had never seen him without his mask before now, and he wondered, really wondered, why Sal kept it covered all the time. It was a quick and easy adjustment to the Picasso-esque appearance of his face. He didn't look standard-issued and that was part of the appeal in the first place. Sal was... different.

" **I'm not leaving, Sal**." Travis insisted, even going as far as to close the door. He dared to move closer to the bed, where the sad, blue boy sat. " **You shouldn't be alone right now**." It didn't matter if he should or shouldn't be. Sal wanted to be alone. He wanted nobody anywhere fucking near him. He didn't want anyone to see him vulnerable, or to perceive him as weak. Because, God, he wasn't sure if there could be anything worse right now than being abandoned and weak.

" **Why the fuck do you care?** " Sal aggressively closed the notebook.

" **Because even if the shit didn't mean anything to you, we still had something, Sal. And it meant something to me. You mean something to me**." God. If Sal hadn't been bitter before, he certainly was now. The fucking audacity to bring that stupid shit up now, now of all fucking times.

" **Did you come here hoping to get laid, or what**?" Sal was still bitter, but he rose from his bed maybe faster than he needed to. " **What, you hear Larry fucking left me, and you'd come swoop in, be my shoulder cry on? Seriously? How often does that fucking work for you, Travis?"** Sure, maybe it was a leap, but what else was Sal supposed to think? They hadn't even spoken since _that one time,_ and suddenly, he sweeps in like prince fucking charming? No. Sal wasn't a moron. He knew exactly what the fuck this was.

" **What? Why would I do that? You know people actually care about you, right? We're not** ** _all_** **just out to fuck you**." Another venomous spit, but from the blond instead of the blue-haired boy. Both of them looked equally as shocked by what Travis said. Travis didn't mean to say it out loud. Sal wasn't supposed to ever hear it. But there he was. Hearing it. Sal stared at him in total disbelief. He couldn't even make words, in that moment. He just... stared at him. " **I didn't mean that**." Of course he did. Sal was stupid to think it could have been anything more than what it was. It made sense, in retrospect. The whole thrill of the chase thing. Larry had, in essence, gotten what he wanted from Sal. So he just wasn't needed anymore, right? Right.

" **Get out.** " Sal's voice was almost a whisper. He didn't look at Travis. He just moved toward his dresser, grabbed his mask to fix it onto his face. Suddenly, he felt like he was suffocating. His lungs burned from the air they craved so desperately. Travis was stealing all of the oxygen, he figured. He needed to leave. Sal needed to get out, and he needed Travis to leave first. Travis made a noise, like he was going to speak, but the look in the eyes of Sal was more than enough to change his mind. He clenched his jaw, nodded and left the room.

Sal waited until he heard the apartment door shut before he walked out. Henry was none-the-wiser, completely immersed in whatever project he was working on to make sure he beat whatever deadline he'd been given. Sal called out some excuse for why he was leaving. But he had a hope. Hope that he'd run into Lisa. Maybe she had heard something, because regardless of what Sal was starting to think had happened, he hoped pathetically for good news of some kind. That Larry had lost his phone, but finally found it.

" **Anything?** " Sal asked a certainly frazzled Lisa, trying to keep her shit together as she cleaned the hallway of the 2nd floor. Lisa looked at him with eyes that mirrored Larry's, and it was the most upsetting, visceral feeling in the moment. He saw home in them for about two seconds before he remembered. Lisa's sigh served well to bring him back down to Earth.

" **Nothing. Cops said he's an adult. Has to be a full 48 before I can even report him.** " Lisa sounded beat the fuck down, and it killed him. He wanted to be able to offer some sort of comfort but he didn't know how. He opened his arms, wrapped them around Lisa is a tender embrace, something to let her know she wasn't alone. It wasn't a long moment, but it was a moment drenched in catharsis. Because they weren't alone. Someone else missed Larry, and was worried about him.

————————————————————————

_7\. He found out about me and Travis that one time and hates me. Will probably hate me forever._

It was before they had a title. Before they said they loved each other. When they were just using each other for some sort of outlet. When they used each other to get off and just about nothing else. Neither Travis nor Sal meant for it to happen when and how it did, but it just... did. It started as fighting.

_Fists swinging wildly, and pulling their opponent back within striking distance. Blood soaked the inside of Sal's mask, and scrapes from Travis' teeth covered his knuckles. Likewise, Travis was looking... a little rough. And then it happened. Sal's back hit the wall, and knocked the goddamned wind out of him. A cold stare, and a mirrored shove, and a tug, and Travis against the wall. A maneuvering of the mask, and Sal on his knees._

_A glistening string from Travis' tip to Sal's lip. Larry had never let him top before. But Travis? Travis let him, and Sal refused to slow down to stop until the blond was a near-sobbing mess under him. There were no kind parting words. No affectionate aftercare. Just a final once over as Sal redressed, and left the locker room. But that was what it was. There weren't supposed to be any kind of feeling attached, so why did Travis have to get so... weird?_

Sal felt horrid. This wasn't the right time, but he knew, just as well as anything, that his body had a mind of its own, and would react to just about any memory that stimulated that particular set of nerves. He made sure his door was shut before unbuttoning his jeans, pushing them down just enough to have access to his length. It started as nothing spectacular, staring at the ceiling, rubbing his thumb over his tip. It probably could have stopped there, but he was feeling deprived, or even more so, depraved.

A closed hand around his shaft, he closed his eyes, imagined Larry's mouth on him at first. That always did the trick when he needed release but was left to his own devices. He took a deep breath that made his chest feel sort of strange. Why did it feel like a sob brewing? Sal didn't have the answers for that. But he did know he wasn't going to be able to finish. Not when, even in his dirty, sexual fantasy thoughts, he was fixated on the eyes looking up at him. His hand fell away with a dramatic sigh. "Fuck." He huffed, pressing his head further against his pillow.

This was beyond frustrating. Larry was controlling every aspect of his life, without even fucking being there. Eyes stayed trained on the ceiling, his hand resting on his chest, cock still catching a breeze. He blinked slowly, fucking annoyed. Eyes closed, he tried to imagine that dark shit he had seen in a magazine from a sex shop. The brutal sex on the pages. Even that wasn't doing it. He counted each little bump in the popcorn ceiling before he gave up, tucked himself away. Back to staring at the ceiling. A deep breath, before he reached for his phone on the bedside table. A text he knew he was going to regret.

_If you come over, I'll fuck you again. Might even let you fuck me._

He wanted to unsend it as soon as it went off into... where ever exactly it was that text messages went. He couldn't though. Whatever damage had already been done. It gave him the chance to expand.

_Craving pain. Wanna cause it and feel it. Help me out?_

It had been almost two weeks since he kicked Travis out of his room, and the two hadn't spoken a word since. He didn't really expect Travis to answer him. More, expected it to fuel some sort of _Bash Sal Fisher_ campaign or some shit. He dropped the phone next to him on the bed, stayed flat on his back. A nap? Maybe he'd take a nap. Take his mind off of everything else.

And then he heard the chime.

' _I'm in._ ' Ah, good boy.

Sal double-checked he had the shit he needed, the shit he'd initially bought to be some cute little submissive for Larry. Cuffs, rope, gags, blindfolds. The necessities; lubricants and condoms. He was good on all fronts. All he had to do was wait. Henry was off for the weekend at some convention or work thing. Sal didn't pry. But it meant they had the apartment to themselves, and didn't need to be quiet.

Travis got there in record time, honestly. Despite their height difference, Sal found it a little too easy to overpower Travis. And that wasn't what he wanted. " **Fight back**." Sal snarled, grabbing a tight hold on the blond's bottom jaw. He used it to exert momentum, shove him down onto Sal's bed. It was sick, the smirk across his face when he saw what looked like a mixture of excitement and fear. Good. " **You're gonna pick a safe word. Means hands off.** " Sal was by no means a dom, but fuck, if he didn't want to try. His breath made it too hot in the prosthetic, so he took it off, tossed it to the side. He'd offer something to Travis he hadn't before.

" **Stop?** " Travis suggested, having no idea what the other options were, if it was supposed to be a random word or a practical one. Stop seemed like it'd be easy enough to get out in a panic, but Sal had rented enough dirty videos to know he didn't want to have to back off from that word, but he definitely wanted to hear it.

" **How 'bout red?** " It was almost the same, without having that sick thrill element with it. Stop signs and stop lights were red, so it made sense. Travis looked at him, before he nodded in agreement. Sal tugged off his sweater, showed a torso that had its fair share of scars and gouges. It wasn't pretty, but Travis had difficulties taking his eyes off of it. Not the in car crash way, but in that filthy way that almost screamed what was going through his head. Sal climbed on top of Travis, a hand on his throat. " **Remember. I told you I wanna hurt you.** " Because safe and consensual was the only way to do it, right?

" **If you can.** " Travis challenged. That sent a shock down Sal's spine, fingers curling around his throat. He watched with that sick smirk on his mouth, Travis' own hand gripping Sal's wrist, urged him to choke him harder. A chuckle, before Sal pushed his hand up Travis' shirt, felt curves and bumps of muscle contract under his fingertips. Sal pressed his fingers harder against Travis' skin, more than excited to dig nails into flesh. He promised pain, but he'd start small.

Travis proved to be a challenge, though. His tolerance was insanely high. It wasn't long before he had a gag in his mouth, a metal circle that kept him from losing his mouth. Every vile word and filthy sound pouring out of his throat would hang thick in the air. The blond was on his stomach, ropes fixed under the bed to keep his arms and legs apart, flat on his stomach.

A solid black blindfold was over his eyes. For a second, Sal felt guilty that he was using this shit with someone other than Larry. But if Larry wanted them used with him, he wouldn't have fucking left, right? Fuck him. Fuck him for leaving. Fuck him for hurting Sal. At least he had somewhere to channel what he felt. He could hurt someone, and it would be mutually beneficial.

Lubed up fingers.

A vague smell of sweat and latex.

Pathetic sounds as Sal's hips worked unrelenting behind Travis. As good as that moment had been with Lisa, Sal was pretty sure nothing would get more cathartic than this. He could hear the pain in each noise Travis let out, trying to muffle it by burying his face against the mattress. And it felt good.

At least someone else was fucking hurting.

 


End file.
